


9&10

by stelleappese



Series: 30 drabbles [4]
Category: The Alienist (TV)
Genre: M/M, about sex but yeah lol, and general kinky activities, mentions of spanking, they're honestly just talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 04:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16569923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelleappese/pseuds/stelleappese
Summary: “I know what I’m asking,” Paul says, with one of those cheeky grins of his, before taking a sip of his tea.“But not what you’re gonna get.” Biff insists.





	1. Chapter 1

“I ain’t sure you know exactly what you’re asking me,” Biff says, slowly, carefully.   
Which is  _not_  something he ever thought he would tell  _anybody_. But then again, this isn’t the first time Paul is the exception to one of Biff’s rules…  
“I know what I’m asking,” Paul says, with one of those cheeky grins of his, before taking a sip of his tea.  
“But not what you’re gonna get.” Biff insists.  
Paul’s eyes linger on him. He licks his lips, sets the cup down on the table between them.  
“Whatever it is, I can handle it.”  
Paul fucking Kelly and his hard fucking head.   
Biff has no doubts about Paul’s ability to be rough. He can be merciless. He’s not scared to get his hands dirty, if the situation calls for it. Biff has seen him fight, before; and his expression -the spark in his eyes, the smile on his lips- as he spit blood on the floor was almost impossible to tell apart from the one he had the very first time he flirted with Biff.  
On the other hand, Paul can be  _incredibly_ , almost ridiculously soft. If it’s to provoke, to make people uncomfortable, then he can be extremely explicit; but the moment Biff answered positively to his provocations… well, that changed things.  
“As I said,” Biff continues, “You ain’t got a clue. You know me, you know what I do. And still you ain’t stopped to consider that maybe you don’t like what I like.”  
Paul shrugs. “I will only know that if you show me.”  
Biff bites the inside of his cheek. He shakes his head with a chuckle. “I’d have to go easy on you.”  
“No need to do that.”  
“Trust me,” Biff says, smiling sweetly and leaning forward. “There’s plenty of need to do that.”  
Paul blink at him. For a split of a second, his calm, controlled expression slipped. He swallows, picks up his tea again. “May I know why?” he asks, before taking a sip.  
“Because I’d feel no pleasure in… damaging you.”  
“ _Damaging_  me?” Paul snorts.  
“Yeah, make fun of me. Other people, I don’t care about. They can try to bite more than they can chew, and I’m just gonna put them in their place. But you… I want to  _keep_  you.“  
Even though Biff had no intention to do so, the last sentence comes out as something of a growl. Paul’s cheeks  _undoubtedly_  go pink.


	2. Chapter 2

Biff blows a puff of smoke as he looks at the raindrops pummeling the window. From time to time, thunder growls somewhere close; but the crackling of the fire and the heat of Paul’s body against his makes the cold feel extremely far away.  
He’s half-laying on him, Paul, arms wrapped around Biff’s sides and stuffed underneath the pillow behind his back, head on Biff’s chest. Biff’s free hand has been lazily playing with Paul’s messy hair for a while, now.  
“Ain’t this strange?” Biff says, mostly to himself.  
“What is?” Paul murmurs, sleepily.  
Biff doesn’t cuddle. He wasn’t planning on doing it today, either, but… it just happened.   
Paul did  _so well_. He kept his arms up above his head, just like Biff had ordered him to; he didn’t panic when Biff stuffed his pretty tie in his mouth, or when Biff started to spank him with a belt.  
“I think we can both recognize we’re… strange bedfellows.”  
“Why’s that?"   
All those little noises Paul made… maybe it was those. Maybe it was the way he looked at Biff, the way he looked  _up_  at him, dark eyes liquid and almost pleading.   
He’d taken everything Biff had given him, and he’d  _loved it_. Biff would have felt like a piece of shit if he’d done what he always does and had left him there to compose himself on his own.  
So he’d cleaned him up, put some ointment on the bright pink skin of his ass and thighs, gave him something to drink. He didn’t mean to stay longer than that, but Paul had grabbed him and basically thrown him back on the bed, and, well. Biff had stayed.  
"My idea of a relationship is sex and occasionally sharing a drink.”  
Paul hums softly.  
“You take me on dates.” Biff adds.  
“I have  _never_  done that.” Paul says.  
“What were we doing at the Museum of Natural History, then?”  
“That was not a  _date_. It was a meeting.” Paul protests, perching up on his elbows.  
Biff arches an eyebrow at him. “Right.” he says.  
“And I  _told_  you: the Peabody Museum of Natural History lent them some outstanding fossils found in Como Bluff!”  
“You say those words like they make any sense at all to me.” Biff grins, shrugging.  
“You say that, but you asked an awful lot of questions about them.” Paul points out.  
Biff chews in his lower lip, he shrugs again. “Fine. I liked the bones.”  
“Fossils.”  
“Same thing.”  
“There is actually no organic material in…”  
“There is no organic material in fossils, I know. I  _was_  paying attention, honey.”  
Paul goes quiet. He flops back against Biff.  
“You see, then,” he says, “Balance.”  
“Balance…” Biff repeats, taking one final drag from his cigarette and putting it off on the ashtray on the bedside table.


End file.
